


Fast Motions

by starbursts_and_kisses



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-04
Updated: 2014-04-04
Packaged: 2018-01-18 02:46:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1412089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbursts_and_kisses/pseuds/starbursts_and_kisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started when Arya borrowed Wylla's dress...</p><p>Cue a bored Aegon, a stubborn Arya, a three-hour long dinner party, and one jar of imaginary honey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast Motions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elrewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elrewin/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a drabble, written in response to the prompt "Modern AU - Smut", but somehow it turned into something much longer (blame drunk me) so I opted to post this separately from my collection of Tumblr prompts. 
> 
> Writing smut is not my forte, so don't say I didn't warn you XD

 

Aegon leaned against the wall, arms crossed, an impatient scowl on his face. It wasn’t like Arya to be this late. Usually it only took her around ten minutes to get ready, a feat that Aegon was most grateful for given the fact that the last girl he dated was Myrcella Baratheon, but this time it’s been almost an hour and there was still no sign of Arya. 

 _Damn it. What’s taking her so long? If we don’t make it on time, her sister will skin me alive._

At that precise moment, Arya’s bedroom door swung open and he heard the unmistakable sound of her heavy boots stomping down the stairs. 

Whatever complaint he was about to say immediately died on his lips the moment he saw her. 

Aegon gawked at her. “You’re… you’re wearing a dress,” he said in surprise.

Arya made a face at him. “I forgot to do my laundry,” she explained. “Luckily for me, Wylla is too lazy to pack her stuff so she still has an entire suitcase’s worth of clothes hanging around her old bedroom.” 

 _Thank you, Wylla._ Aegon grinned to himself and made a mental note to be extra nice to Arya’s former roommate the next time he sees her. 

“You know, I still don’t get why we have to dress up for this thing. It’s just dinner with Sansa and her friends,” Arya whined, reaching up to fix her ponytail and unconsciously allowing her dress to ride up, giving Aegon a glimpse of her bare thighs. 

Aegon gulped. 

“I mean, yeah, I get it. She got promoted at work, and she wants to celebrate with us, but don’t you think it’s a little bit over-the-top to dress up and…” 

She did not get a chance to finish her statement. In a second, Aegon had her pressed up against the wall, his deft fingers toying with the edge of her skirt. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he whispered convincingly in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers of desire across her skin. 

“Uh huh,” was all Arya could say as she closed her eyes and eagerly leaned into his touch. She felt one of his thumbs graze her nipple, while his other hand crept upwards, slowly inching the fabric of her dress up to expose the creamy expanse of skin underneath. 

“Just say the word and we can stay here all day, doing…this.” 

She gasped as his teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on her throat. She arched into him, her nails leaving searing marks at his back, while one hand fumbled frantically with the button of his jeans. Aegon tilted his face upwards and met her lips for a kiss, and she felt him smile against her mouth at her impatience. 

But Arya had no time for games. She wanted him, and she wanted him _now_. With an impatient flick of her wrist, she undid his fly and stroked him right in the exact same spot where she found him hard and wanting, applying just the right amount of pressure to make Aegon growl with need. He was just about to thrust into her when the sound of Tom Sevenstring's "Forest Lass" pierced the air. Both of them froze. 

"Fuck," Arya cursed loudly, resting her forehead against Aegon's chest, her body trembling with unreleased tension. 

"Ignore it," Aegon growled, his grip on Arya's waist tightening. 

"But that's probably Sansa, wondering where we are now." 

Aegon stared at her with eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust. _"Ignore. It,"_ he said in a voice so low and dangerous Arya found herself getting aroused all over again. "You're not going anywhere tonight." 

Arya groaned, and despite her body's protests, slowly disentangled herself from Aegon's embrace. "I promised her I'd go, Egg," she replied, feeling just as frustrated as he did. "Fuck. _Fuck, fuck,_ fuck." 

"Come on, babe..." 

"Not now, okay? Sansa will send out an entire search party for us if we don't show up at her apartment tonight. You know she will." 

Aegon ran a hand through his hair, not even bothering to hide his irritation. "Fine," he snapped, and for some reason, the look he sent Arya gave her chills. "But you and I... we're not done yet. Far from it."

 

* * *

  

Arya leaned back against her chair and fiddled with the food on her plate. She loved her sister with all her heart, but by god, this dinner was boring. Sansa was deep in conversation with one of her co-workers, while across the table from them, Jeyne Poole was regaling the remaining guests with tales of Margaery Tyrell's bachelorette party _("Did I mention that this is already her_ third _bachelorette's party in the span of one year? That girl sure knows how to work it...")_  

Arya had always misliked Jeyne Poole, but now that she was Theon's wife, she had grown even more wary of her. (Because come on, any woman who managed to get “Playboy of the Year” Theon to propose _and_ made him keep his wedding vows practically had the words "dangerous" written all over her face.) 

She was just about to mutter some half-assed excuse to go to the ladies' room when she felt someone's hand rest on her thigh. 

She shot Aegon a surprised look, but he was too busy talking to Mya Stone's fiancé to spare her a glance. So she shrugged and went back to pretending like she was listening to Jeyne's chatter. 

But apparently, her boyfriend had other plans. Arya sucked in a deep breath as she felt Aegon's hand travel higher, the pads of his fingers ghosting over the inside of her thighs. She swatted his hand away and jabbed him none-too-friendly on the ribs, all while hissing, "Are you crazy? Not here." 

The idiot did a remarkable job of acting as though he hadn't heard her, and to her annoyance, he went on chattering with his newfound acquaintance, nodding at precisely the right moments and laughing every time the guy made a lame joke. But Arya was not fooled. She wasn't blind. She could see the tiny smirk Aegon was trying so desperately to conceal forming at the edges of his mouth, and god, did she hate him for it. He wanted to get her back for her refusal to acquiesce to his demands earlier, that much was obvious. Well, she'll be damned if she would give him the satisfaction. 

She clamped her knees shut, but Aegon pried them open, and before she knew it, her dress had ridden up her thighs, and Aegon's hands were busy underneath the tablecloth, greedily touching every inch of available skin he could find. When he reached that secret junction between her thighs and cupped her through her underwear, his knuckles grazing her slit, Arya felt her breath hitch. 

"Stop it," she whispered weakly to Aegon. 

His face remained impassive. But he responded by increasing the pressure on her mound, and when he pushed her panties to the side and touched her right _there_ , Arya almost lost it. She closed her eyes, highly aware that her breathing had gone ragged and her cheeks had gone as red as Sansa's hair. Almost as though he had sensed it, Aegon stopped and slowly withdrew his hand. 

Arya shot him a venomous look, to which Aegon only shrugged. He politely excused himself from his conversation with Mya's fiancé so he could blink innocently at her. "What?" he mouthed silently. "You told me to stop."

She bared her teeth at him most unbecomingly and dug her nails in her palms. But other than that, she said nothing else. 

Aegon smirked at her and scooted closer to her, one arm slung over her shoulder. Arya spared a look at the others at the table, but none of them were paying the slightest bit of attention to them. "Say the word and I'll give you your release," he whispered dangerously in her ear, the near proximity of his lips against the shell of her ear doing marvelous things to Arya's self-control. "Come on. Say it. Say please." 

"Never," Arya vowed. No matter what happens she would not give in. No man would make her break. 

"Fine then. Be that way," Aegon said with a pout. "I'll make you come so hard every person in this room will hear you screaming my name." 

Without warning, he shoved his hand between her thighs once more and inserted a finger inside her. Arya gritted her teeth and gazed studiously at the back of Mya Stone's head, determined not to give Aegon the reaction he was hoping for. But he was pumping his finger erratically inside her now – faster at first, but just when Arya was beginning to experience that tight feeling in her belly, he would slow his pace, leaving her desperately aching for more - and his thumb was grazing and working on that sensitive spot that always seemed to beg for his touch, and without meaning to, Arya found herself tilting her hips upwards and rubbing herself against his hand. 

She bit her lower lip so hard she drew blood, but the pain of it combined with the way Aegon's fingers were playing with her cunt was causing her vision to blur at the edges, and _oh god_ , she was so wet now all she wanted to do was to sink herself against Aegon's cock and ride him hard. 

"I'm still waiting for that please," Aegon breathed out, his cheeks flushed red with arousal and excitement. "Any moment now..." 

Arya silently cursed in her head and counted to three. But she barely made it past two when she said, "Oh, to hell with it. _Please_." 

Aegon grinned victoriously at her and curled his fingers further inside her, hitting that tiny spot that made Arya want to scream, and she was trying so hard not to moan out loud, her fork clattered to the carpet floor and her grip on her wine glass loosened, making her spill wine all over her lap. 

Aegon's eyes darted left and right, and when he was sure that everyone's attention was not focused on him, he flashed Arya a wicked smirk and purred, "Let me go get that for you." 

That was all the warning Arya got before he crawled under the table and settled himself between her thighs. Arya's heart leapt at her throat when she felt Aegon's warm breath against her skin. And then before she knew it his tongue was eagerly lapping at the trickle of wine down her thighs while his hands were skillfully tugging at the elastic edge of her panties. Arya lifted her hips in what she hoped was a subtle enough manner, allowing Aegon to slide the material down her knees, and muttered a silent prayer to the gods that no one was looking their way. 

 _God, if Sansa walks around this corner and sees me like this..._  

All thoughts of possible discovery fled her mind when Aegon pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her slit. Arya shut her eyes closed for a second, but this time she was unable to stop the low moan from escaping her lips. Horrified, she opened her eyes and met the curious stares of every single guest at the table, her sister included. 

"Arya, are you okay?" Sansa asked in concern. "Your face is red." 

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just the heat..." Arya stammered out, surprised that she was still capable of stringing together whole sentences. "It's making me... ahh... a little dizzy." She kicked Aegon hard on the back, but instead of stopping, the stupid bastard only hooked both of her legs on his shoulders and pressed his tongue deeper against her dripping cunt. 

"Where's Aegon?" Jeyne asked, ever the curious friend. 

Arya rested her elbow on the table and shielded her eyes with one hand in what she hoped was a convincing display of weakness. "He's... ahhh... gone out to...g-get..." Get what? Who was Aegon again? "He went to get... ahh... h-honey." 

Sansa gave her a weird look. "Honey? What for?" 

Arya mentally berated herself for being such an idiot. Really? Honey? That was the best she could do? What happened to her wits? "For his tea," she said weakly. 

"He doesn't want to drink wine? Why didn't he just say so?" Sansa said, scrunching up her face in bewilderment. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lie down for a bit? You really look like you’re going to pass out.” 

"No..." Arya blurted out loudly, biting the inside of her cheek and swallowing back another scream. God, the things Aegon was doing with his tongue... "I'll be... fine, Sansa. Please... Ahhh... Don't worry." 

Sansa stared at her for a while, but when she realized that Arya wasn't about to change her mind any time soon, she shrugged and stood up to get more dessert. The rest of the guests quickly lost interest in her as well, and for a few short blissful moments, Arya was allowed to ride out her orgasm in peace. 

When all was said and done, Arya slumped back on her chair and tiredly ran her fingers through Aegon's hair, feeling him hum contentedly against her skin. When the coast was clear, Arya nudged him with her foot, and quick as a cat, Aegon crawled out of the table and claimed his usual spot next to Arya, looking for all the world as though nothing out of the extraordinary had happened. 

When Sansa came back from the kitchen bearing another tray of lemon cupcakes, all she saw was Aegon innocently licking sticky juice off his fingers. She frowned disapprovingly at him. "Did you just dip your fingers in honey?" she scolded him in a voice similarly reminiscent of Catelyn Stark. "That's disgusting, Aegon. Please, not in front of the guests." 

Aegon shot her a lopsided smile, but his words were directed entirely at someone else. He shrugged. "What can I say? You Starks make the _best_ desserts in town.”

 

* * *

  

Aegon stared dazedly at the ceiling of his truck, a lazy smile on his face. He just had the most amazing sex of his life, and he had Sansa's stupid dinner (and Wylla, don't forget Wylla) to thank for that. He and Arya barely made it past one block of Sansa's building before he decided to throw caution the wind and make good on his earlier promise to his girlfriend. 

And now, almost an hour later, he was lying on the backseat of his car, Arya's contented form flush against his. The entire inside of his car was a mess. There were clothes strewn everywhere (dear God, was that Arya's bra dangling precariously on his internal rearview mirror, plain for all the world to see?) and out of the corner of his eye, he spied a huge crack on his car window, evidence that Arya was as entirely wolfish as her family's business logo had suggested she was. 

Ah, but it was worth it. Aegon would gladly dent his car and buy a new one if it would mean he and Arya could do that again. Hell, if he got pulled over for illegal parking while Arya went down on all fours and sucked him dry till his eyes rolled over his head, he would probably take a jail cell, no questions asked, and continue fucking her without caring if anyone else saw them. Sansa (or god forbid, Jon) would probably have to bail them out, but then they would... 

 _Fuck_. Speaking of Sansa... 

"Arya?" 

"Mmm-hmm?" 

Aegon gulped. "Please don't get mad at me, but... babe, I think I left your panties underneath Sansa's dining table." 

There was a terrible and foreboding silence. 

"God _dam_ mit, Aegon!"

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god. Be right back. Gonna go find a jar large enough to hide in...


End file.
